From the Rim of the Sky to the Root of the Mountain
by Kago of the Funk
Summary: Smaug the Terrible has always been a burden on Thyra's mind since she was a little girl, but with the training she has gone through,Thyra leaves her home to travel south to Middle-Earth in search of the last dragon.Resting along her travels,it is the whispers of an old wizard garbed in grey to an exiled dwarven king that have caught her attention.Rated T for now. FilixOC KilixOC
1. Chapter 1

"_To the far north of Middle-Earth resides a providence of people. They are the Nords of Rim of the Sky, and within Skyrim, there is a sect of warriors who are revered as dragon slayers: they are called Dragonborn. Rarely does one of the Nordic folk leave the Cape of Forochel; however, one has now traveled south to Bree, and the whispers of an old wizard garbed in grey to an exiled dwarven king have caught her attention. Can she talk her way into joining the Company? And does she know more about the terrible calamity that is Smaug than she is letting on?"_

_As stated, this is a Skyrim/Hobbit cross-over. Now, usually I extremely dislike cross-overs because the majority of the stories make no sense what-so-ever. However, I hope I have intertwined these two universes in a way that makes sense, is somewhat realistic, and is enjoyable. To try and properly interpreted the Elder Scrolls world into Middle-Earth, I basically formed Tamriel into the shape of Forochel. Hopefully this doesn't anger many of you, but this was the best way I could think of doing things . Lastly, this is mostly a FilixOC story, but there will be a second OC introduced displaying some KilixOC lovens~ Tell me your thoughts!_

_EDIT: Alrighty, change of plans! So I found better maps of the world of Middle Earth and I've had to rearrange as to where Skyrim would fit. I have decided to include all of Tamriel, not just Skyrim, that way more of the Elder Scrollsverse will be incorporated and it will keep things more authentic. Also, that way when Thyra talks about Argonians and Kahjit, I can keep their race origins authentic as well instead of bullshitting it, which I would feel is a ripoff for you readers and fans of both worlds. The link for the Middle Earth World Map I am going off of is posted in my profile so go and take a look to get a feel of where Thyra has traveled from. Tamriel is placed North of the continent between Helcaraxe and Angband._

Chapter One

From the southern Blackmarsh city of Lilmoth it had taken just shy of fourteen months by horseback and ship to make it this far; a muddy and seemingly unsanitary town named Bree. It was a place which drastically reminded me of Riften; a dirty, thief ridden capital of Skyrim. At least here the stench of death and decay was absent though. That thought made me smirk, however, as the memories of visiting that very city filtered into my mind. This was simply a rest stop, however; I held no hope that anyone in this place would have the information I had been searching for. No one seemed to have what I sought. Either that or no one was willing to speak up, no matter how much coin I threw at them.

Already it had been three months since I left home with Haldis, and I had never imagined this journey would take me so far from Skyrim; from Tamriel. Knowing how far from home I was stirred together the numerous emotions within me. I was no stranger to wandering the wilds and foreign lands, far from home and out on my own, adventuring and seeking out my fate with only my steed to share my excitement and company with. True, my leaving for this journey took me out of Skyrim's borders for the first time, but even Cyrodiil and Blackmarsh had a sense of familiarity. This land though, it had me on constant edge the first month since I had arrived. This was the first time I was truly away from everything I knew.

The wind stirred the budding spring flowers into a dance as it skimmed over the ground and through the trees, leaving behind a soft melody that flittered in the air. It was early March and the winter snow was still melting, but it was unusual to feel such a sense of calm and warmth with the wind against my skin. The wind still held that northern chill, but the climate was warmer –like midsummer nights in Whiterun, my home. When first setting off, I had been prepared to cover myself in more layers, expecting the weather to be just as cold and untamed as I was used to, but even daring to think of wearing more atop my dark tawny hide armor top and grieves made me sweat.

None of that mattered at the moment, however, as both Haldis and I welcomed the sight of a tavern as it meant we could take a good long rest from our travels. Even with my heavily armored appearance and the attention it would gain from those unused to the sight of an armed woman, just the thought of a cushioned seat and a drink had me pushing away any concerns I normally might have held being in such unfamiliar territory.

Sliding from the saddle of my steed to the ground, my feet were overwhelmed by a tingling sensation from inside my boots as the blood began to flow, once again unrestricted. Shaking out the feeling, I took Haldis's reigns and led her to the water trough, my hand running along the dark brown fur as she lowered her head for a drink. "Drem, Haldis, geinmaar fen daal volaan." _Peace, I will return soon._ I whispered into her ear, which slapped me away in annoyance. I only chuckled as I left the mare to her own devices, entering the Prancing Pony. Immediately upon opening the door I was greeted with the heat of hearth and bodies, along with drunken boisterous laughter and cheers. Pulling down the hood which covered my face, I shook my head to free my curled, chest-length, dark licorice-black dark hair from its previous confines.

Taking a seat in a far corner and grabbing the attention of a barmaid, I ordered milk, bread, and soup, settling myself in for a somewhat decent meal. It was instinctual to grab for the large war axe that was usually strapped to my back, ready to relieve myself of it as I relaxed, but I paused in my motion as I recalled having left it, along with the rest of my inventory, with Haldis. Sighing, I kicked my feet up to rest on the empty chair across the table from me. For as long as I had been travelling it was strange to not have the weight of my battle axe on my back. It wasn't like I was unprepared and unarmed –I had the small amount of magic I knew to keep me safe and my dagger strapped to my thigh- but it was nothing like having your weapon at your side. At least Haldis would keep my items safe.

Waiting for my meal, I had almost fallen asleep in my seat, my hands clasped behind my head like a cradle, until the barmaid returned, placing my meal before me with a smile. "You're not from around here are you?" The young woman asked, her long dirty-blonde hair falling over her shoulders in loose waves. She appeared to be rather young, twenty or so years old, at least that's the best guess I had for a human; her face was round and had a simple beauty to her features, large hazel-green doe eyes staring at me with friendly curiosity.

Nodding, my light, lavender-painted lips curled into a smile as well as I sat up straight. "Haha, well what gave me away?" I joked, pushing a loose curl behind my ear.

"Well it's not very often you see a woman come in here as well armored as you are now. And I have never seen tattoos such as yours!" She murmured in awe, leaning forward to get a slightly better look at the dark, plum colored lines that ran over my left eye: one long line from my temple, down over my brow, to my eye, and two smaller lines on my cheek.

"They're markings that designate my family's lineage. It's common to see others wearing tattoos similar to this back where I'm from." I explained, picking up the loaf of bread and breaking it in half before dipping it into the watery soup and taking a bite. Mmm, nothing like half-stale bread to satiate a starving Nord stomach.

"I didn't dare ask out right for fear of being rude, but where is it you are from? I don't recognize your accent." Watching the girl take the seat across from me, her hands clasped together in excitement as she eagerly leaned in towards me, waiting to hear what I had to say. She must have noticed my amused expression though, because she quickly moved to correct herself, sitting up straight and folding out the wrinkles of her dress. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. You must be tired from your journey. It's just, we rarely have outsiders rest here, and it gets boring and tedious with the usual rabble."

The girl ducked her head down in embarrassment, but my lips quirked up into a smile, my head shaking in an attempt to wordlessly shoo away her uncertainty. "No, no, I don't mind you asking at all. I come from north of the Icebay; the province of Skyrim."

I watched as the girl's figure grew rigid, her eyes slightly wide in dismay as I watched her curiously. "You're a _nord_? I've heard tales of your people; dragon hunters from the north. Legends say you can slay even the most powerful of dragons with just a few spoken words."

My laugh was one of a friendly nature –not mocking- but the barmaid looked on at me in confusion. Lifting my glass to take a gulp of my drink, I smiled politely at the naïve girl. Why was it that no one could get the stories straight? Nords weren't that secretive of a people. "If only it were that easy to slay a dragon! But only a small group of trained warriors can even Thu'um: they are the Dragonborn, and not every nord holds the capacity to be one." I explained casually, my stomach filled and making me grow lethargic.

"Thu'um? Is that what you call your magic?"

"The dragon-slaying magic, yes."

Falling into silence, I peeked over at the maiden and recognized the look of one being deep in a daydream; however, she was quickly snapped out of it as a man, bearded and greying, yelled over to her. "Mara, you're supposed to be serving the customers, not letting their pints go dry! Get back to work, daft girl!"

Instantaneously the young woman was on her feet, swiftly collecting my used dishes as she tried to hide the growing red embarrassment across her cheeks. "Sorry to have bothered you, Miss. Your story was most enticing. Everyone seems to be talking of dragons lately." She sighed wistfully, probably imagining up some fantasy in her mind.

Turning to leave and return to her work, I quickly caught her arm, her words registering in my mind as my brow scrunched in thought. "There are others speaking about dragons? Who would those people be, exactly?" Could this be the lead I was searching for? It wasn't common for the presence of a dragon to go unnoticed, but after having left home, no one who was willing to talk seemed to know of any dragon.

"The dwarf over there talking to the man in grey robes –I think he's a wizard of some sort- I heard them whispering about a mountain and a dragon who took it as its home centuries or so ago." Mara spoke casually; conspicuously pointing over to the men she was referring to.

Following her direction, I took notice of the two tucked away into a corner. And indeed there was a dwarf; that bit of knowledge pumping relief-fueled adrenaline through me. Dwarves were a good sign, a very good sign, especially if said dwarf was above ground and far from any mountain. Well, it was at least good for me. Standing and thanking the girl for her company, I slowly eased my way to the bar, ordering two pints before making my way over to their table. My presence was easily noticed and all conversation ceased between the two, the dwarf glaring suspiciously at me while the older man watched me with open curiosity.

Setting the two mugs down in front of them, I smiled charmingly, pulling a chair over from another table and sitting myself on it backwards. "Hello there good sirs, I hope you are both having a fine evening." I greeted casually, not having an ounce of formality in my body.

The dwarf wasn't taken in by my cheery charm however, and pushed the pint away from him, probably suspecting me of having done something to tamper with it. "Is there something in which we can aide you with, or do you have a habit of bothering unsuspecting strangers?"

His snarky tone of voice only made my smile grow –mostly out of amusement- but before I could speak, the man, or wizard I should say, tried to make up for his comrade's rudeness. "Our evening has been uneventful for the most part, but productive in the end. And what of yours?"

Turning to face the wizard, my smile slowly fade, my expression turning sly, letting the men know I knew something I maybe should not be aware of. "Long, very long; I've been travelling south for a long time now, and you are the first I've come across who are even knowledgeable of what I'm searching for."

The shift in the atmosphere was subtle, but I easily recognized it; they were wary of me, and dare I say the dwarf was ready to attack me if he felt it necessary. It was the wizard who spoke next, however, his words chosen carefully and his eyes watching my reaction closely. "And what is it that you think we are knowledgeable of? We are only two old friends catching up over drinks."

Smirking, a dark brow rose in questioning disbelief, wordlessly asking if he thought I would in all seriousness believe that tale. "If you truly wish to keep your discussions private, don't talk in front of the barmaid; they have ears like a barn owl and have a love for gossip." After watching me for a moment, the wizard smiled grimly before nodding. With that I glanced over at the dwarf, my elbows resting on the back of my chair as I intertwined my fingers and rest my chin on them. "So I hear you have a dragon problem."

Apparently my whimsical tone of voice did not go appreciated by the dwarf seeing as he slammed his fist against the table top, the drinks which laid on its surface sloshing and spilling over slightly. "What interest could a _woman_ have with something as evil as a dragon?" He growled, eyes glaring at me; sizing me up.

Taking in a breath, I decided maybe it was best to start this entire conversation over. "Forgive me, I never introduced myself: I am Thyra Gray-Mane. I've travelled south from Skyrim in search of word of the dragon Smaug. If you know anything about it, I would greatly appreciate your knowledge."

"Why would a nord leave the Cape in search for word of Smaug? And what interest is it to you?" Seemingly having collected himself, Dwarf continued to watch me with suspicion.

"What other kind of interest would a Dragonborn have in a dragon?" I pointed out, catching myself before my eyes could roll sardonically. Don't want to be too rude now.

"And the Dragonborn sent a woman out to battle a dragon by herself?"

"It's more of a personal quest for honor and glory than an assignment given by my superiors. We nords are all about that you see."

We each held the other's gaze, neither of us daring to break away. I wasn't sure if this was some kind of dwarven test of some sort, but I would not be the first to break away. To my surprise, though, the wizard spoke up, breaking apart our little contest. "The prize you seek lies west of the Misty Mountains, in the abandoned dwarven kingdom of Erebor."

The both of us turned to gaze at the older man in surprise, though the dwarf's expression quickly turned to an angry scowl. "Gandalf, this is no business of an outsider's. Erebor and all that lies within it belong to my kin!"

Glancing over at the stout male, my eyes bounced between the two comrades curiously. Was the dwarf worried I'd steal his gold? "My interest solely lies in the dragon, not whatever treasure you may have hidden away." I told them in hopes of reassuring their fears of me stealing from their plunder so they would tell me all they knew.

Gandalf and the dwarf were silent, staring at each other, though it seemed as if they were still holding conversation. It was the smile from the grey wizard that ended the stand-off. "It seems fortune is smiling upon you, Thorin son of Thrain." Turning to me, I gave Gandalf a curious look before he laid out his proposal. "My lady, you are a capable warrior I can assume. We could both benefit from what I propose: Thorin is about to gather a company of dwarves to retake The Lonely Mountain. If you were to accompany us, we could aid each other in slaying this beast."

Thorin was obviously against the idea, not hesitating to point out flaws within the wizard's plans. "That is if Smaug even still lies within Erebor. He has not been seen for over sixty years. For all we know my homeland could be lying unprotected for any to take."

Yes, because a dragon, having traveled a long distance to plunder your home and your gold, would just decide to up and leave because he no longer cares for his prize. If he has kept to himself, perhaps he decided to fall into a sleep. If that were the case, then this would be the best time to attack… Seeing as Gandalf was the one to purpose this alliance, it was him I turned to face. "If there is still a chance Smaug is in your mountain, then I will travel with you." I nodded, my expression serious.

Gandalf seemed honestly glad that I had accepted, though Thorin could have at least pretended to smile. I wonder how quickly he might try to lose me in hopes that I will never even get to start to travel with him and his company. The thought quickly left my mind; however, as Gandalf took up the flask of ale I had brought over and held it out. Reluctantly taking hold of the one he had previously been drinking out of, Thorin held his cup up to the wizard's and I quickly swiped the remaining one that I had brought, my cup meeting theirs before we all took a hearty swig. The taste was strong and disgusting to me, having lost my taste for alcohol little more than a year ago, but I swallowed the drink anyways.

"To a safe journey ahead of us."

"To reclaiming Erebor."

"To the death of Smaug the Terrible!"

This… was definitely going to be an interesting journey.


	2. Chapter 2

_Phwoo! This chapter is a bit longer than I'm used to writing. I'm surprised so many words came out of me this time xD Anyways, I would like to make a few disclaimers: first off, I have no clue as to what the dwarven halls that reside in the Blue Mountains look like, so their description is what I'd imagine it as. Second, despite what the wiki says, I am not portraying female dwarves with beards. Peter Jackson did not grow them beards in the few short clips you manage to see them in, and honestly it makes no sense. For women to grow beards, their bodies would need to make an unnatural amount of testosterone, which in turn would make the females infertile. SO, that being said: women dwarves = no beards!_

Chapter 2

I had thought that travelling with Thorin, as grumpy and broody as he was, would provide some amount of entertainment; however, he seemed rather keen on ignoring me and acting as if I was simply his shadow. I had expected Gandalf to have at least stuck around a while longer, but the old wizard had left our company the night after I met them at the Prancing Pony. Thorin and I had remained at the tavern however; the dwarf writing out numerous letters to his kinsmen. A few dwarves had even come to Bree to meet with Thorin. After a little more than a week of waiting and gathering supplies, we delayed not a moment further and set out east towards the mountains. What little Thorin did speak, he managed to tell me in his cute-annoying gruff manner that we were headed to Thorin's Hall to meet with a number of his kin. There he would try to persuade others to join his quest. Apparently I was coming along to help convince the others that this quest wasn't in vain because with a Dragonborn, how could we not succeed?

I, of course, made a comment about this dwarf population living in a place titled after his namesake. His response was that it was the choice of his people to name their refuge after their new king. The image of Thorin with his permanent scowl in place, sitting on a golden throne, with lots of dwarven ladies surrounding him, serving him plates of mead and roasted pork swirled into creation in my mind. Snickering and giggling to myself, I quickly stopped upon noticing Thorin's suspicious glare. Clearing my throat and recomposing myself, we continued on in silence.

It was as the sun began to sink and hide behind the horizon that our sixteen day journey came to an end. I gazed at the dwarven entranced, carved out of the side of the mountain, in awe. Dwemer ruins had rarely been this intricately decorated; the details of the columns and décor were astounding and surprisingly beautiful. From the dwarves that I had met, I had never imagined that such beauty and art could come from them. I told Thorin as such as we brought our steeds to a halt and led them to the stables to be fed and watched over by the stable-hands.

Giving Haldis's haunches a pat as I followed Thorin, the dwarf king glanced up to me. "What, did you think we were all hardened, mead-craving warriors?"

Glancing around, I pretended to think on his words before refocusing on him, my lips quirking into a smile. "Yeah, pretty much."

I was surprised to see Thorin sport a small smile, a chuckle rumbling through his chest. "Not all of us have that luxury unfortunately. Not all Nords are dragon hunters, am I correct? There are dwarven smiths, woodworkers, architects, hunters, farmers, merchants; we are as resourceful and varied as any other race."

Nodding upon seeing his point, the large doors to the entrance of this dwarven hall opened, the hinges creaking and groaning loudly as two dwarves dressed in surprisingly nice fabrics –though they still had that hardy-dwarf look and feel to them- strolled out, bowing to their king as we neared. One was short, even seemingly so for a dwarf, his head just managing to rise above my waist. Braids riddled his ridiculously white mane that seemed to want to engulf his severely wrinkled face, and his nose stuck out sharply. He honestly almost looked like an over-feathered bird. The other dwarf seemed to be a bit younger, though still rather old, but he was much more heavyset. His hair was more grey, streaks of black seeming to cling onto his strands from his youth, and it was pulled back and tied into one thick braid. His beard was done in much the same nature, though it was tucked under his belt and kept from flinging about as he walked –or hobbled.

It was the older, wrinkled fellow who spoke first, rising from his bow to stare up at me. His eyes narrowed as he evaluated my presence. "My king, we are glad to see you return safely. And it seems you have brought an extra guest. I was under the impression all of those who you summoned had already arrived. Shall I go have another bed readied?"

Resting a hand on the old dwarf's shoulder, Thorin met his kin's eyes with surety and kindness, an almost-smile tightening the muscles on his face. "No, Berinor, that will be alright. We will not be here for long I suspect."

We continued to walk forward, entering the hall, and I droned out Thorin's talk with his steward, and second-in-command/lieutenant/whatever-his-job-is. Even despite the obvious differences already presented between the dwarven hold before me and the dwemer ruins I was used to exploring, I had anticipated the inside to be dimly lit, cold and grimy, and small metallic dwemer work spiders to be skittering around. The halls were large and wide though, much like how the doors were as well, and still every surface seemed to be carved delicately and artistically. Now that I thought about it, why were the doors so expansive? Dwarves were naturally short in stature, so wasn't it a bit excessive and unnecessary to build such large halls? Hmm, I'd have to ask Thorin about that later! The spacious room however, was filled with dwarves. Some were simply standing idle and talking with others, while there were also those who seemed to be rushing around, attempting to go about their daily work. I even managed to catch glimpses of some females. They seemed rather average looking much to my dismay; like shorter, stouter women with larger, round noses. And here I was half expecting them to have beards!

We soon left the hall however, and we made our way through a much smaller corridor lit with torches. That quickly came to an end when the passageway opened into another large hall, though smaller than the entrance we had paraded through. With a large stone table seemingly having risen naturally out from the ground in the center of the room, dwarves surrounded the slab; their combined, boisterous voices bouncing off of the stone walls and making me cringe. One hell of a way to give someone a headache I'd say.

Our presence went unnoticed as we first entered and I watched as Berinor and his companion left their leader's side and disappeared into side passages. All the while Thorin, dare I say majestically, walked to the head of the table, slowly catching the attention of each dwarf present in the room, a wave of silence passing over the crowd. Once Thorin took his seat, the rest quickly followed. Every eye was on Thorin, waiting for something to be done, or something to be said, but it continued to remain silent. Damn, did this dwarf have a keen sense for dramatic entrances! I may yet find myself liking him! Or at least have a growing respect for him.

Leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table, his fingers intertwined together to form a rest for his chin. At last, the King under the mountain spoke. "Friends, I have called you here today to ask for you aide. Long since have my kinsmen and I been driven from our home in the Lonely Mountain. We have wandered and searched to find ourselves a new home, and it is here in Ered Luin that we have managed to settle; however, our fate has finally taken a change. I have decided it is time to take back Erebor from the dragon that stole it from us; to take back what is rightfully ours." Staring off into the distance at first, Thorin's gaze slowly turned to each and every dwarf sitting at the table. He met their gaze straight on, fearlessly and without doubt. "And I turn to you and ask: Will you help us reclaim Erebor?"

I continued to watch the clan's meet from my position against the far wall, next to the door where we had entered the room. No one had seemed to notice me; everyone's energy was directed towards the king and his request and the usual political bickering that ensued. Yeah, I would definitely be staying out of this debate; I couldn't stand politics of any sort. I barely even got involved with the civil war back in Skyrim, though many tried to get me to loudly proclaim my allegiance to one side.

The yelling and bickering had continued on for hours and I had managed to entertain myself by grabbing some food servants were taking to and from the table, and sharpening my battleaxe, making sure it was clean and in good condition. It was an old weapon, a relic of the Companions, and I had been lucky enough to have it presented to me. Wuuthrad: the same axe which Ysgramor used in his crusade against the Snow Elves of Skyrim, the province's original inhabitants. It had once been shattered, the fragments stolen and then lost, but over the years the pieces had been found and scavenged together, re-forged by my uncle, Eorlund Gray-Mane. Originally the axe was to go to one of the Circle, one of the most elite of the Companions, but it was then that I had found out I was Dragonborn and was leaving for the Throat of the World to begin my training. And so my uncle, in agreement with Kodlak and Skjorr, bestowed Ysgramor's axe onto me. With the magic I knew in one hand, and Wuuthrad in the other –well technically it was in both of my hands but we're skipping the technicalities for now- I had only named one other weapon as my own since, and no one dared touched either unless they wished to suffer my wrath.

"Why is it you are so sure you will succeed in your venture, Thorin son of Thrain?"

The yell of a single dwarf over the others caught my attention and I looked up to see Thorin having stood to his feet facing another of his kind who seemed to be slightly younger. The spoken question had the others at the table murmuring to themselves as the king remained quiet, and glancing to the greying dwarven leader, our eyes met and he nodded. Well, I guess that was my que.

Placing a bit more pressure on the grindstone in my hand, it squelched against the metal of my axe, gaining the attention of the crowd. Pocketing the stone, I clasped the battleaxe back into place on my back and stood to my feet, my arse feeling relieved to be off of the hard ground. "That's because he has the one thing dragons fear most: a Dragonborn." I spoke loudly for all the hall to hear.

It was silent. Completely, dead silent; it was honestly kind of awkward. Which made me sad because my entrance was just as dramatic as Thorin's! Pfft, biased dwarves!

"You're trying to tell us that this woman is a Dragonborn from the north? What purpose would one of the Nords have for travelling this far south on only the slight chance that Smaug remains in his hold?"

Suppressing a role of my eyes, I inhaled deeply. "My reasons don't matter. What _does_ matter is that I am here, and I am lending my aide to Thorin, King under the mountain. Is that not enough assurance for you to join him?" My question lingered in the air, and it seemed that Thorin would finally get his answer as the clan's talked amongst themselves for a time. Walking up behind Thorin as he sat, I leaned against the back of his chair, peering down the table along with the exiled king. "Do you think it will work?" I spoke quietly, my words being only for Thorin to hear.

"I do not know. We can only wait." Was his soft, yet firm reply, "No matter the answer, we will be back on the road as soon as the summit is dismissed." I only nodded and we waited in silence until the other dwarf clans were ready.

At last it seemed everyone had come to a decision, and the leader from each clan took a stand. The grim and stern expressions set on their faces told us of their decision before they even managed to speak. "We do not dare take the risk. I am sorry Thorin, we cannot give you what you seek. This quest is yours alone."

The others nodded in concurrence and Thorin raised his hand, signaling for them to say no more. "I understand the weight of my request, and I do not begrudge you for your refusal. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. Please, remain in the Halls for as long as you require; my kin will see to that you are well taken care of. If you will excuse us, we must be on the road again."

As Thorin stood and began to walk out the room, I followed silently behind, not wanting to ruin the effect our exit had. I was honestly surprised though. I had imagined Thorin being more aggressive in getting the support of the other dwarves. What would we do now, I wondered? We took our exit quickly, and the main hall's traffic had become completely nonexistent since we had entered the council chambers. How early was it? Damn, I should have taken a nap while I had the chance!

Exiting Thorin's Hall, our horses were already saddled and prepared, and Haldis looked eager to get going. No doubt the dwarves wanted her gone as well knowing how bratty and spoiled the mare could be.

The silence coming from Thorin seemed unnatural, not like the silence I was used to, and I couldn't help but watch him, concern for the dwarf weighing on my heart. Peeking over as he made final preparation for his horse, I hesitated before speaking. "You're not worried, are you? It's honestly better that they didn't come. Such a large army would have slowed us down and complicated things." I pointed out, sharing my optimistic view. I honestly wasn't too worried. Sure, Smaug was one of the oldest and meanest dragons I had ever heard of, but we still had to meet up with Gandalf and some others. Hopefully Thorin's trust in them wouldn't be misplaced.

Throwing myself onto Haldis's back, I glanced at the dwarf king, smirking. "Are you sure that colt can carry you all the way to the Shire? He seems a little young to be carrying your bulk around." I jested, lightening the mood. How the poor little thing had even carried Thorin all the way here, I would never know. How old could that calf possibly even be? He had to be way too young to even try and cart around anybody, more or less anything.

Giving me a strange look, Thorin returned his attention to the road ahead as he spurred his horse into motion. "He's not a colt; he's a pony."

It was silent as I took in the information, blinking to try and process what was said. "A what?"

* * *

I honestly could not help myself from being amused each time I glanced down from my large steed to the dwarf king's mount. Thorin was well aware of my amusement and it only seemed to make the already grumpy demeanored dwarf grumpier, his scowling eyes glancing to me in distaste several times. "I would fill my time with something more than finding amusement in the stature of dwarves if I were you."

Speaking since we last left Ered Luin, his warning-veiled-as-a-casual-comment did not impress, leaving me to shrug in indifference. "I'm not judging you; I'm honestly more amused by the pony than anything else. I would have continued to think him a heavily-furred colt if you had not told me what he really was." I explained, trying to keep my laughter hidden, hoping to no further insult the dwarf. Then again… "Yet, so what if I am amused at your small height? Would you send me away? Leave me behind so I could not follow? You need my skills and knowledge, Thorin, as much as I need the aide of your company. And seeing as it is not your dwarven treasure I am after, I am more of a valuable ally than a threat. Unless I misjudged you, Thorin son of Thrain, and your pride is more important than the health and wellbeing of your people."

My words slid slyly from my mouth, my snow-colored eyes glancing sideways down at the dwarven leader. I knew Thorin cared for his people –it was obvious in the way he interacted with them- but I had to ensure Thorin thought me too valuable to his quest to toss aside later. This quest was about the pride of _my_ people; my family, just as it was for his.

"Your usefulness still remains to be seen, Nord. Your presence at the clan's meet was of no help."

"Tch, oh yes, let's put the blame of dwarven stubbornness and idiocy on me. That's surely the answer." I retorted.

That was the only thing he deemed worthy enough to speak however, remaining silent for quite a time. Whether he was ignoring me as had become the normal for us or was thinking on what I had said, I did not know, but when he spoke again, it was not of what I thought it would be. "You told me you were a Nord from Skyrim, up north; that you were a Dragonborn. Tell me more."

The smile that lifted my lips could not be helped, and I replied with a simple nod. "Skyrim is one of the provinces of the Cape. There are nine regions; nine capitals, nine jarls who govern over the country along with the High King. I hail from Whiterun, capital of the Whiterun Hold. My family is one of the oldest clans within all of Skyrim, rivals against the Battle-Born, though our families used to be close. Both clans can trace their lineage back to Ysgramor and the Five Hundred Companions. Anyways, there is a guild of warriors in Whiterun who take on tasks and quests for those in need and those others cannot complete: we are called the Companions, and we are what remain of those who followed Ysgramor. I was a young girl when I first joined the Companions. It was exciting and I felt I was doing my ancestors proud for fighting in their name and memory… _'I am a warrior and will die as I live –in glorious battle!'_" Explaining all of this had memories jogging circles in my mind: the first time I had ever entered Jorrvaskr, walking up the Skyforge stairs to tell my uncle I had joined the Companions. There was also the time when I had been training with Vilkas and accidently smashed his foot with a mace. Even with my healing magic, he hadn't been able to walk right for a week.

Smiling to myself at the fond memories, I realized Thorin was watching me curiously. Clearing my throat, I gave him an apologetic smile. "I followed in my ancestors' footsteps, made my family proud. And then a dragon attacked Helgen, a city to the south, and I was sent out with a number of other members to help slay it. It died and, well, it became obvious I was one of the Dragonborn. So I left home for High Hrothgar to begin training with the others."

"Is not every Nord a Dragonborn?" He asked.

"No. No one is quite sure what makes one Dovahkiin, but when you're recognized as one, it becomes your duty to protect the land from any dragon-kind that may threaten it." I explained.

"'Dovahkiin'?"

"It's Dragonborn in Dovah. It's dragon tongue." I explained, scowling to myself. Hadn't that been obvious? I was distracted; however, as we turned down yet another familiar path. My lips parted as I was about to ask Thorin if we were perhaps lost, but he spoke before I could get a chance.

"Yes, this is the place. How can anyone tell these hills apart? If it were not for the mark on the door..." The male grumbled to himself, and looking to where Thorin spoke of, I could indeed make out the traces of a rune, glowing a dim blue against the green painted door. And behind that door I could make out singing and laughter. Hmm, well they seemed to be having fun.

Sliding to the ground, I pat Haldis's nose and told her to not wander far before I walked in through the gate and towards the hobbit home. "It would be wise to wait for me." Came Thorin's call, but I ignored him and quietly entered the house without a knock, bending over to enter and closing the door behind me as I leaned against the doorway to the kitchen where the dwarves were finishing the cleaning of their dishes. Damn, we missed dinner. I told Thorin we should have rode faster!

Gandalf was the first to notice me, a smile and a nod in my direction being the only welcome I received before his focus turned back to this large company of dwarves. Dishes were flying through the air, from one dwarf to another, as one with less of a beard and more of a fu manchu mustache and a hat covering his head played the clarinet, bouncing dishes off his elbows. I made sure to keep out of the way and keep undetected, enjoying watching the little song and dance. The atmosphere in this small home reminded me of the dinners back in Jorrvaskr, the Companions' mead hall. I was so glad I got Thorin to allow me to join his company; this would be fun and a lot better than traveling on my own. As the singing stopped and the laughter dimmed slightly, my own chiming laugh could be made out as I clapped. "Such a bunch of talented dwarves, I've gotta say!"

Yells of surprise filled the crowd, and I think I even heard the homeowner let out a groan of despair at yet more company occupying his house. Many of the dwarves got to their feet, though most in an uncoordinated and unsteady manner. It took a bit of confused babbling between themselves before one of the dwarves spoke up; Gandalf remaining silent through all the commotion to no doubt watch on in amusement. "Mr. Baggins, I didn't know you had a wench! My feet could sure use a good rubbing if no one else needs her!"

My bluish-white shaded eyelids narrowed, plum-colored lips pursing in distaste as I stared at the dwarf with auburn hair styled into a star-like shape. _Don't punch anyone. Remember, they're drunk!_ "She's awfully heavily armored to help Mr. Baggins with housekeeping, Nori; though the armor does suit her quite nicely." The dark-haired, hat-wearing, clarinet-playing dwarf's comment confused me, distracting me from getting angry. Was that supposed to be a compliment or was my choice of armor being judged? Because if someone else decided to look me over in the most obvious of ways because of my traditional, Nordic, hide armor, I might be tempted to freeze someone's fingers off!

It was a heavily bearded, bald dwarf that stood next, his suspicious glare almost had me wishing he was ogling me instead. "If she's not with Mr. Baggins, then I want to know who invited her. What business does a _human woman_ have at a meeting unknown to anyone who isn't wizard or dwarf?"

Well damn, if I had known my presence would have received this sort of reception, I would have listened to Thorin and waited for his slow, pony-coddling arse. Resting my hands on my hips, I met the rather tall dwarf's challenging stare. "Oy, Dwarf, if you're going to insult me, do a better job at it than besides calling me a _human_." I snapped, my lip curled in a snarl, "Mey."

The Dovah insult slipped out naturally, but even when he didn't know when he was being called a fool, the dwarf knew it was an insult, which only caused him to go into an uproar, and in turn making the others get excited. That, however, was quickly silenced by the harsh knocking coming from the front door, immediately shutting everyone up.

"He's here. I was beginning to wonder how far behind you he was." Gandalf at last spoke, standing from his chair and following the hobbit, who I finally took notice of, as he shuffled his way through the crowd and to the door. Moving so they could move past me, the dwarves seemed to follow after the first two, earning myself a few curious glances mingled in with a look of distaste from the bald dwarf as they passed. Ignoring them all, I looked around the slightly less crowded kitchen for some scraps of food that had hopefully been left over. I caught sight of a lonely apple, and quickly grabbed it and took a bite, remaining at the back of the group as I listened to Gandalf introduce Thorin to the hobbit; Bilbo was his name I think.

I wasn't particularly interested in Thorin's judging of the hobbit; it didn't matter. We were just here to convene in a private place, gather our bearings, and be off. What did it matter if Thorin thought Bilbo to be a gentle folk? However, Dwalin's comment did make me snicker.

"Thorin, why is there a woman in the kitchen, not making any food, and clearly armed? I didn't take you for the sort of man to bring about a woman for _entertainment_."

The barking laugh honestly just erupted past my lips; I had no control over it. Oh naïve, somewhat tall dwarf, we shall see who entertains whom. Glancing over as the sea of dwarves parted to let their leader through, Thorin and I just stared at each other, me continuing to munch on my snack. "Interesting bunch you've got here." I commented casually, talking as politely as possible as one can with a mouthful of my snack.

Letting out a sigh through his nose, Thorin closed his eyes before turning to the company. "There is much we have to speak of."

_Haha, so I rather enjoyed this chapter, as drawn out as it was. I feel as if you guys got to know a bit more about Thyra and her home. I'm trying to fill in details for those who don't know Skyrim lore all that well, or even at all, so that way everyone can read the story and still understand it. And it sort of occurred to me… would anyone from Skyrim know what a pony was? Because all I've ever seen is sturdy horses built for power and stamina. And so Thyra meets a midget horse for the first time. Comments, questions? Just give a review and you will get your answers! :D_

_~Kago_


	3. Chapter 3

_Ohhh Sorry it took so long for this chapter to come out! It kind of kicked my butt and beat me with the Greatsword of Writer's Block. I just want to jump ahead to when things pick up and become so much more fun with the shenanigans that are ahead! Anyways, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, and favorited, and followed the story, and encouraged me to keep going. I'll promise you now, this story will NEVER EVER EVER be dropped xD I'll try to update on a some-what regular basis!_

_As for the request I received from one of my Guests, I am definitely going to take it on. It may be a while before I'll be able to get it up, and it will probs be a one-shot, but it's an interesting prompt I look forward to writing about._

_Anyways, there is a story I am prolonging you from, so go on and enjoy! Oh! And I apologize if the scene with Thorin's speech and the dwarves talking about how to enter Erebor is a tad scrambled, I couldn't remember which parts came in what order, despite having seen the movie in theatres six times now –yes, I have a slight problem w- and I couldn't find any clips of that one scene. So yeah. x3_

Chapter 3

Everyone had settled down around the crowded table, Thorin sitting at the head while Bilbo and I kept on our feet, the hobbit pacing between Gandalf and our company's leader while I leaned casually against the wall to Thorin's right. I only paid partial attention as the dwarves caught up on current events, Thorin informing the others of what occurred at the clans meet; my attention was more focused on the nervously fidgeting hobbit who continued to glance over at me, a look of uncertainty molding his face. It took him a bit, but he finally turned and faced me, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry, I have yet to properly introduce myself: Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

Smiling, I extended my hand in a greeting-like gesture, Bilbo taking it with his small hand quickly. I thought I had large hands for a woman, but looking at the hobbit's completely encased in mine did nothing to make me feel any better about my more masculine appendages. It's not like I wanted frail, dainty hands, but come on, can they at least be a little feminine?! "It's a pleasure, Bilbo. I am Thyra Gray-Mane."

I watched as Bilbo's expression turned curious and he quickly looked me over, glancing from the table of dwarves and back to me. "You, uh, I never imagined dwarf women would be so…tall."

Laughing out loudly, I shook my head, dark brown/black curly locks flying through the air. "I am, most definitely, not a dwarf, Mr. Baggins."

It wasn't unexpected when Bilbo's brow jumped up into his hairline as he looked me over once again, no doubt thinking he knew what I was. "Ah, I thought you were Human, but it didn't seem to fit; a human travelling with a dwarf. Aren't dwarves supposed to be very distrustful of others?"

Snickering, I glanced over towards Thorin, checking to see if he was paying any attention to our conversation, which thankfully he wasn't or he'd probably scowl me into submission. "Oh yeah, they're very distrustful, that much's for sure, but no, I'm not Human either. Care to take another gander?" I asked, my amusement clearly showing.

A voice to my right interrupted Bilbo before he could say anything and the both of us turned to face Mr. Fu Manchu. "If you're not Human, what are you then? You sure look Human to me."

Apparently more people were listening to our conversation than I thought. "Are you an orc in disguise?!" A dwarf called out from down the table, his shaggy, dark hair hanging to his shoulders and his face lacking a majestic beard like every other dwarf I've had the pleasure of encountering.

"Kili, I don't think Orcs have women." The mustache-bearded blonde beside him said.

"…She could be a really strange Orc…" He grumbled, clearly put out by the statement from his comrade. Shaking my head, I worked to force away the amused smile that was trying to creep its way onto my face. Oh the little amount of knowledge they actually had… I wonder how they would react to finding out that Skyrim Orcs were nothing compared to those that live this far south. Actually, I don't think I've seen one of their orcs. Hmm, I wonder what they look like; they're obviously not what I'm used to imagining as an Orc.

"She's a nord, and an impatient one at that."

Heads turned to look to Thorin, and I gave him a teasing pout. "Aw, you were supposed to make them guess!" I laughed.

Shaking his head at my nonsense, I grinned and chuckled, but upon noticing Dwalin's stare, I stopped, watching him skeptically. "You're a nord?"

"Yes?" I replied uncertainly, wondering as to what the dwarf was thinking.

He continued to stare at me for a few moments longer before letting out a manly grunt and turning his attention back to Thorin. "What of the dwarves from the Iron Hills. Will they join us?"

Bilbo, not entirely interested in the new change in topic, began to wander about his house, looking over the rather well done clean up job the dwarves had performed, seemingly completely baffled. I decided to remain in my little corner, half listening in on Thorin telling everyone the details of what had occurred at the meet and half flipping through one of my favorite books that I had stashed in the pouch on my leg. It wasn't until Gandalf laid out a piece of parchement, flattening the folded paper to reveal a map of what I assumed was the Lonely Mountain, did I start to pay attention once again. So, this was Smaug's newest den.

"Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time!" The bushy-bearded ginger exclaimed.

"It _was_ foretold that when the birds returned to Erebor, the reign of the great beast would end."

Silence settled as the near-deaf dwarf spoke of his prophecy.

"Beast? What beast?"

"Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible: greatest calamity of our age.; airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, especially fond of precious metal."

"Yes yes, I know what a dragon is." Bilbo huffed, but attention turned to the youngest blonde dwarf as he jumped to his feet.

"I'm not afraid! I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of dwarvish metal right up his jacksey!"

I snorted at the leud comment as the company began all talking at once, in agreement with the young one. The dwarf next to the rambunctious young one pulled him down back into his seat, however –I think they were brothers- and everyone quickly quieted once again.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest." The old dwarf beside Bofur said.

Seriously, these dwarves got excited over the littlest of things. Every time someone spoke it seemed they all broke out into discussion. Not that I minded; it was quite entertaining listening to their babbling while my eyes flitted over the worn out parchment of my book. I even chuckled when one demanded if the old dwarf was calling him dim. It was the thump of a gauntleted fist against the table top that drew everyone's attention this time around, the young, blonde, braided dwarf speaking up.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters; all of us; to the last dwarf!"

"And do you forget that we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf would have killed _hundreds_ of dragons in his time!" The beardless dwarf exclaimed excitedly.

Jeese, learning all of these names was going to be a bitch.

"O-o-oh, I wouldn't say-" Gandalf stuttered, obviously trying to figure out a way to correct the misinformed dwarf.

"How many then?"

"What?"

"How many dragons have you killed?"

For once it was completely silent, the grey wizard attempting to refrain from choking on his pipe smoke as he attempted to find the correct answer to give the company. My silvery-white eyes danced between Thorin and Gandalf, the expectant look the dwarf king held did not escape my notice. Haha, what a jerk Thorin was for leaving Gandalf to fend off the wolves!

"Go on, give us a number!"

So much for the lasting quiet.

Argument and shouts of disagreements began to fill the room, but with a mighty dwarven roar, Thorin called all attention to him. "And do you not think that if we have read these signs, then others would have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread; the dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look East to the mountain; assessing; wondering; weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people lies unprotected. Do we sit back and let others claim what is rightfully ours, or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor!"

The litany of roars and cheers that erupted from the dwarves had me forgetting about my book and instead smiling, Thorin's speech filling me with excitement and adrenaline as well as the king cried out dwarvish words I could not understand. Thorin continued to impress; his ability to inspire his kin so vigorously with such few words only attributed to his good character, to his affinity at being such a strong and respected leader among his people despite his coldness towards me. I could almost see the similarities between this dwarven king and the self-proclaimed High King, rebel leader of Skyrim.

"You forget the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain." The wise dwarf beside Bofur spoke out.

It became quiet, eerily so seeing as the boisterous presence of the dwarves had all but driven the silence out of this house.

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Out of nowhere, Gandalf began to twirl a small, but heavy looking between his fingers, smiling in an annoying way showing that he knew something the rest of us were not aware of.

All eyes were on Thorin and the grey wizard as the leader of the company stared on in shocked at the object in Gandalf's head. "How came you by this?"

"It was given to me by your father, my friend; for safe keeping. It is yours now."

Thorin took the key from the wizard's grasp in an almost tender gesture before tightly wrapping his fingers around it, all the others simply watched in wonder. It was a blonde dwarf at the end of the table who spoke up next, breaking the quiet. "If there's a key, there must be a door."

At the blonde's words, Gandalf gave a curt nod, smiling knowingly. "These ruins speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls.

"That means there's another way into the mountain!" Mmm, kudos to the dwarf who thought I was an orc for pointing out the obvious. Silly little man~

"If we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer to finding it lies within this map, and I do not have the skills to find it, but there are others in Middle-Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage. But if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar!'

There was no sense in my continuing to try and read. The current conversation was much too engaging and I had been reading the same sentence for the last ten minutes. Replacing my book back into its proper place, I frowned at the young one. A burglar? I didn't take dwarves as beings of stealth, and by how they were talking I couldn't imagine they were referring to one of them. Thorin had mentioned nothing of burglary to me, so who did they expect to take on the task?

Bilbo, who had been holding up a candle to provide better lighting and peering over Thorin's shoulder at the map, gave a nod, taking a step back. "Mm, and a good one too; an expert I'd imagine." It had been a long while since our host had spoken, the man simply watching the others like myself.

It was odd watching every single dwarf turn their head to look at Bilbo expectantly; even Thorin had turned his eyes onto the hobbit. The bushy gingered dwarf leaned forward in his chair, eyes narrowing at the small lad. "And are you?"

Wait… They couldn't seriously consider Bilbo, could they?

Mr. Baggins seemed to not be able to follow the train of thought seeing as he glanced over his shoulder, as if the stout man had been speaking to someone behind him, "Am I what?"

"You hear that, he said he's an expert!" The dwarf with a hearing horn tucked into his ear laughed out in excitement, others chuckling at his mistake. I would have palmed my face at the miscommunication myself, but I was a bit preoccupied by the fact that Gandalf thought it smart to bring along our sheltered hobbit host.

It took a moment for Bilbo to realize everyone's attention was focused on him, and upon so, he looked very surprised. "What? Me? No, no no no! I'm not a burglar! I've never stolen a thing in my life."

"Then I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material." Balin said. His lips formed into a grimace.

Bilbo, on the other hand seemed rather content with the words spoken.

"Aye, the world is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." The large, tattooed dwarf spoke.

Bilbo only nodded in agreement, seeming relieved that others of the company seemed to be agreeing with him. The dwarves, however, grew rowdy at the realization that Bilbo was indeed not a burglar, and the noise only continued to grow until alas Gandalf would take no more of it. Standing tall, a shroud of darkness began to seep from the wizard, shaking the inside of this small home, the wizard's voice booming.

"Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!" All stared at Gandalf, startled and shrinking back into their chairs; even I was taken aback by the sudden display of anger. Damn, I wish I had that sort of magic! I'd be as intimidating as a Daedric prince! Slowly Gandalf settled back into his seat, gathering his composure as the dwarves recollected themselves awkwardly, "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the scent of dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him; giving us a distinct advantage." Glancing to Bilbo for a moment, the grey wizard turned to address the leader of this company, his expression serious. "You asked me to find the fourteenth member for your expedition, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There is a lot more to him than appearances suggest and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself."

It was silent as Thorin mulled over his choices, and I eyed Bilbo wearily.

"You must trust me on this." Gandalf said.

Would he really be up for the task? I had stealth, albeit being an acquired skill instead of the hobbit's natural ability, and Smaug would no doubt recognize the scent of a nord, but it would at least prevent an ill-experienced warrior from charging into danger. The leader had reached a decision; however, "Very well, we will do it your way. Give him the contract."

Well, at least we were finally going to be off. I had had enough of just sitting around. It seemed as if I wasn't the only one eager to be off seeing as the table of dwarves began to fidget anxiously, and Balin reached into his pocket and retrieved the contract, leaning over to hand it to Bilbo. I smirked in amusement as Thorin grabbed it from his companion and roughly shoved it into the hobbit's hands, startling the poor man. Wait… Funeral arrangements? Bilbo apparently had the same concern as me and began reading off the contents, and listening to the list continuing to grow, I walked up to Thorin's side, my hand resting on the back of his chair as I leaned forward over his shoulder. "It's rather strange Thorin, you never mentioned anything about a contract to me."

Not bothering to turn and face me as he spoke, Thorin's reply was gruff and straight to the point. "You don't get one."

"And why is that?"

Finally deciding to look at me, his stern expression was serious and a bit bothered. "Did you not say you had no interest in the treasure? That you were only looking to slay Smaug?"

"Well, if you're freely going to give it out, I won't say no." I retorted light heartedly despite my frown. "But what about the funeral arrangements? You wouldn't really throw my dead carcass out to the crows, would you?"

The slight hesitance before his response did not amuse me in the slightest, but his reply at least seemed to be sincere. "No, I would not. You would be buried respectably if given the chance."

Okay, yes, I was thankful for his consideration of the matter, but I didn't particularly care what happened to my body, I preferred to be cremated, but hey, who can be picky these days? What I did care for, though, was if I did die, I would like my family to know at least what had happened. "What, don't I get to have a letter sent home of my sorrowful demise?"

My quip was met with a glower, "No. If Smaug was slain and Erebor retaken, I would not have the time nor the patience to track down whatever family you may have in a country I know nothing of."

Standing straight, my lips pursed into an irritated scowl. "Right, glad to know my death will be mourned so passionately." I retorted sarcastically, turning my attention to Bilbo to ensure I kept myself civilized. It wasn't like I didn't know Thorin didn't like me all that much, but by the almighty Divine, did he have to be such a cranky ass!?

"_I-Incineration?!_"

"Oh, aye, he'll melt flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Bofur casually called out, resting the hand with the pipe on the table.

"You alright there, laddie?" The older dwarf asked, seemingly honestly concerned for the hobbit, leaning forward to get a better glance at him.

I watched in interest as Bilbo leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees and holding up his weight, as the hobbit seemed to grow increasingly pale. Was he feeling nauseous after simply hearing a vague description of the dangers of a dragon's flame? "Ah, yeah, I feel a bit feint."

For whatever reason, Bofur got to his feet, leaning across me and over the threshold as he began to explain further of what a dragon was. "Think furnace, with wings!"

"I-I I need air."

"Flash of light, searing pain, then 'poof', you're nothin' more than a pile of ash!"

All eyes watched Bilbo carefully, me leaning forward on the table and peeking around Bofur, waiting to see what would happen as he swayed, attempting to collect himself. For a moment there, it looked as if he would be fine…

"Nope."

The moment Bilbo hit the floor, I roared in laughter, clasping Bofur's shoulder to try and keep myself steady on my feet. Gandalf sighed and shook his head in bemusement as he stood up and moved to gather the poor hobbit, Thorin sighing along and shooting my newly dubbed favorite fu manchued dwarf a dark glower. "Was that truly necessary?"

Turning to his majestic leader, Bofur gave the greying dwarf an innocent look. "What? I was only trying to give the lad an accurate image of what we're goin' after!"

Thorin remained silent, his expression stern, but we watched as his eyes slowly turned to gaze in the direction where Gandalf was tending to Bilbo, trying to wake him. "It's probably for the better. Like Dwalin said, gentle folk don't belong where we're off to. I mean, it would have been nice not to be the only non-dwarf on our escapade, but he isn't quite fit for, well, you know, dragon slaying an' all that." I pointed out, my lips curved into a sad frown. We came all the way here, intruded into the guy's house, ate all his food, all for him to decide not to go with us. Poor bastard must hate our guts.

It was Bofur who turned his dark eyes to me, a sharp, smart twinkle alight in his optics. "I don' know about that, lass; if Gandalf chose him to join us, he must know something about the lad that we don't, don' cha think?"

At that, I shrugged in uncertainty, seeing the truth in the dwarf's words.

"I trust in Gandalf's wisdom; it is his judgment I question. The hobbit knows nothing of the world outside his Hobbit hole; he knows nothing of war." Thorin spoke, his stern, grumpy exterior making its appearance once again. I was honestly beginning to wonder where it had gone off to. It seemed that every time we were in the company of his kin and friends, Thorin was actually somewhat pleasant to be around. Was I honestly that much of a nuisance to the damn midget that me being within a ten foot radius of him had the man in a poor mood?

"I agree; it is obvious he lacks in experience with violence of any kind, but maybe you shouldn't be so quick to judge. Bofur could be right; Bilbo may have some hidden potential we're unaware of." I admitted, shrugging nonchalantly while glancing to Bofur with a smirk.

Thorin glared at me in distaste while Bofur looked upon in confusion. "Were you not just saying how the Hobbit is unfit to go and slay a dragon? You are Dragonborn; shouldn't you know what it takes to take down such a beast, and who can surmount to the task?" Thorin challenged, his temper flaring as he stood to his feet, trying to reach my eye level.

Sadly his attempt at intimidation did not work over quite so well and I slumped back against the wall unimpressed. "At the moment Bilbo would have better luck fighting off a wild skeever and winning than going against a dragon, yes, but unlike you, I don't overlook the fact that there is yet still time to learn. And besides, it's not as if he would be going against Smaug by himself. Was it not Gandalf that said having a hobbit would be beneficial to us with their natural affinity for stealth and Smaug's unknowingness of a hobbit's presence? How else would we lure the beast out to our advantage?"

Grunting with a flare of his nose, Thorin turned and –with an obviously forced calm to his movements- left the kitchen, removing himself from my presence to no-doubt keep himself from inflicting bodily harm upon me. Okay, maybe it is understandable for Thorin to not want to deal with me, but come on, the man's stubborn to a fault; can I really be blamed for wanting to poke and prod at him for it?

Right, don't answer that.

My attention was turned away from my inner thoughts, however, as Bofur looked up to me with a curious look. "If ya don' mind me asking, what exactly is a 'skeever'?"

Smiling, I pushed back off of the wall and instead sat myself on the corner of the table beside Bofur, my torso turned towards him. "A skeever is a giant rat that infests Skyrim wilds. They're a common nuisance, but they're manageable and relatively easy to kill. Not to mention they make a nice snack once roasted over a fire." I explained with a wicked smirk.

The wide eyes and grossed out expression made me laugh, Bofur staring at me in suspicious disbelief. "No one in their right mind would cook and eat a rat, giant or not!"

Pausing and thinking for a moment, I actually gave Bofur an agreeing nod. "You do make a point. The amount of insanity within Skyrim is completely ridiculous. I'll have to tell you the story about the time I got challenged to a drinking contest. What happened that night is nothing compared to what others do, even when sober. Hmm, good thing I eat venison and horker meat more than anything else." I mused.

Once again his expression turned to one of questioning and he was no doubt wondering what in the dark Void a horker was, but we were interrupted as a small –well, small_er_- dwarf approached from the main hall, his white hair and beard loose and unbraided and ornamented, his beard curled off to the sides at the end. This dwarf stood in the doorway, his small, sharp eyes looking me over and taking in my presence, hands on his hips. "It has been quite a while since I have seen Thorin so thoroughly worked up."

"Aye! And never by a woman!" Exclaimed a bushy-bearded ginger of a dwarf, who was passing through the kitchen to get to the pantry in search of more ale.

Deadpanning at the comment, I quickly recovered, fixing myself with a neutral expression. Why was it that the thing people pointed out the most about me was the fact that I was a woman? I mean seriously, it's almost like they haven't ever seen one! Is it truly that difficult to realize that a woman is just as capable, if not more so, as a man is?! Lifting my shoulders in a shrug, I decided lingering on sexism that seemed to be running rampant was not worth it at the moment and I gave the dwarf before me a sheepish smile, "What can I say; I apparently have that effect on dwarves."

"Ah, yes, I must apologize for my dear brother's behavior. It seems that I alone inherited the family's wits and manners. I am Balin, at your service." The teasing smile and quaint bow were a surprising, but a pleasant turn of events, my smile growing more relaxed and natural.

Taking a stand myself, I gave a casual bow in return. "It's a pleasure to meet you Balin."

"You shouldn't let Thorin's demeanor get to you, lass. He finds it hard to trust, especially when he's trusting in the unknown. But I for one am glad you're with us; it's rather comforting to have a dragon slayer amongst us."

"Aye, at least not as many of us will die a horrible fiery death." Bofur commented casually, pulling a bag of his weed out of his pocket as stuffing more of it into his pipe as he did so.

Snorting in amusement, I refocused on Balin, his kind smile turned to me. Maybe things wouldn't be so awkward on the journey. At least some of the dwarves were nice and pretended to enjoy my company. "It's kind of you to be concerned, but Thorin's grumpiness is tolerable. Once he realizes I'm not going to slowly kill you all one-by-one so as by the time we reach Erebor I'll have the key and your mountain of treasure all to myself, I'm sure he'll come around." I joked, the upturned corners of my lips revealing as much.

Chuckling, Balin nodded, "I hope you are right, lass. I truly do." The sound of chair legs scraping against the floor caught our attention, and watching as a small number of the Company dragged chairs over towards the room with the hearth, Balin turned and gave me another bow. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll join the others."

Giving a nod, the small dwarf left the room and turned the corner, Bofur standing and following after, his chair in arm. Inhaling softly as I found myself alone, I looked down towards the other end of the room through the darkness that had set upon the house. The roaring laughter and talk that had previously filled the house had died down to quiet murmurs, the lateness of the night becoming more evident as the house and its occupants seemed to be settling down. With Bilbo having left to lock himself in his bedroom and the dwarves gathered together, I figured finding a comfortable place to sleep would be my best option. What else was there to do?

Quietly placing my full weight onto my feet, I deftly moved around the table, intending to exit through the other door, figuring my chances of finding a more comfortable 'bed' would be higher going this way; however, the soft quiet that had fallen over the room was broken as my name was called. Turning back, I met Bofur's sincere gaze and soft smile with an innocently curious look, his head peeking out from around the corner of the door. "Are ya comin'?"

It took me a moment to realize I was being invited to join their little dwarven pow-wow of kinship. It was surprising, I had figured the dwarves would keep to themselves and try to have only minimal contact with me. Relief and happiness had my heart feeling light in my chest, and I think Bofur noticed my relieved smile as I nodded and followed him into the den.

It seemed that maybe dwarves weren't as strange and cold as the stones they lived in and mined.

_I really should have read this over before posting it, but writing this chapter just drained all rational thought for my brain and I wanted to get this out as quickly as possible. So yeah, I'll come back when I've gathered my wits and re-edit it. If anyone seems something I messed up, leave a review and I'll fix it! Despite the errors no doubtfully present, I hoped you enjoyed the chapter and the next installment should be out in a week and a half or so._

_EDIT: YAY! I finally got this edited and more accurate xD Alright, now that I've got that done and I've streamed the Hobbit about twice [and counting] already since I found it last night, the next chapter will be up soon, PROMISE! No later than a week! So keep an eye out for it._

_~Kago_


	4. Chapter 4

_Guess whose updating!? :D I am terribly sorry for such a long wait. Getting my mind to focus on this chapter was rather difficult. Not much really happens in this chapter and I'd rather bang my head against a wall: I do not do well without any action xD. Unfortunately the next few chapters will mostly deal with Thyra integrating into the company and sharing stories of her life in Skyrim, so they might be shorter than usual. I do want to thank everyone for their encouraging reviews! They pushed me to get this out as soon as I possibly could and without them I'd be procrastinating getting this chapter out even further._

_I also have a twitter and tumbler up for all of my stories and art. I'll be posting updates on twitter specifically about my stories, also giving sneak peeks for chapters to come, more background information of characters, and other little treats. So if any of you are interested, you can talk to me on there: KagoOfTheFunk; .com_

Chapter Four

The fire had dimmed as the night continued on. Many of the dwarves had already found small nooks to curl up into, attempting to get some amount of rest before the sun rose. To Thorin's surprise, Thyra had been one of the first to retire. For the majority of their time together, he had witnessed the wildly maned woman sleep very little. When she did, though, she was difficult to wake. Many times he had to shake the female awake before they could continue on their way.

Thorin inhaled deeply, the smoke of his pipe filling his mouth before he allowed it to escape through his nostrils. Though his gaze lingered on the flickering flames within the hearth, the dwarven king's thoughts centered around the nordic woman.

Her skin was tanned, though still light in tone, and her voice was lower pitched than most other females he had encountered, yet still retained some femininity. Her womanly figure was also emphasized by her light fur armor. The woman's face was strong, her jaw and nose neither harsh nor soft, lips a darker hue, full and prominent, and her almond eyes, colored a strange white, like newly fallen snow, stood out against the dark violet of her make-up. Then there was the dark violet tattoo over her face, like the color of plums or grapes: a single stroke across her nose stretched along with a pair crossing over each eye down to her cheeks, and another pair cutting across her brows, all four ends meeting together in a crisscrossed design on her forehead. And at last there was her hair, rampant curls falling around her head and reaching to her collar, untamed and unmanageable, and the color undistinguishable between brown and black. Thyra had a subtle beauty to her, femininity and masculinity blended together pleasantly with only a small scar, what appeared to be two small slashes, over her left cheek bone.

Although Gandalf believed her story whole heartedly, suspicion still clouded Thorin's mind. He could not shake the notion that there was more to her presence here. It was simply too convenient for an experienced dragon slayer to show up at his doorstep right when one was needed most. Why was it now that a Dragonborn showed up when Smaug had been a plague for almost two hundred years?

"Care to share what's on your mind?"

Dark eyes slid to the short, white bearded man who stood off to the side, waiting for an invitation to sit despite the close relationship the two had. Thorin gave a curt nod and Balin took a seat, settling comfortably into the wooden rocking chair. Neither spoke for a time and Balin simply waited in content patience for the leader to organize his thoughts. When he still did not speak, Balin took the initiative. "The lass seems interesting enough. She's smart at least, though I'm curious how she would hold up in battle."

"I do not trust her, Balin." Thorin said.

The statement was not surprising though and Balin simply looked on at his friend in thought. "And who would trust a stranger whole heartedly upon first meeting? It is wise to keep an eye on the lass, but it wouldn't hurt to be a tad more hospitable, don't you agree?" Balin shot his king a knowing look, his words holding nothing but truth. Thorin was well aware of this, but maintained his hard expression.

"It has been hundreds of years since Smaug laid siege to our mountain and stole it from us. Why is it now that the Dragonborn choose to take action? I do not believe in coincidence. If she truly is as she claims, her skills will be an asset to our quest; however, if my mistrust is proven just and she betrays us… The safety of every one lies in my hands. If even one of my kin were to fall victim to this woman's treachery, the responsibility would lie solely on my shoulders." Behind the sternness of the king's visage, Thorin's dark eyes glimmered with worry and concern.

Balin sat in silence, taking in the dwarven leader's countenance. To be responsible for all of their lives was a burden that sat heavily on Thorin's conscience and it was a burden he would allow only himself to bear. The somber atmosphere was broken by two drunken chortles, though, and both dwarves turned their attention to two of the more younger and outspoken of the group.

"You should be asleep. We are only just beginning our travels tomorrow and you will need the rest." Thorin spoke, lips curved down into a stern frown.

Looking up from their mugs, the light and dark haired dwarves smiled and collected themselves, meandering over to their two elders. "We tried, Uncle, but it seems sleep means to evade us tonight." Fili said.

"How could we possibly sleep at the precipice of our adventure?! We'll be roaming across the lands; slaying beasts and evil creatures alike. It'll be much more fun than sitting at home with Mother." Kili grinned, growing even more excited as his imagination grew to wild heights. "What about you, Uncle? Why is it you can't sleep?"

A grunt came from the king, exhaling wisps of smoke, and he at last set his pipe onto the table. He ignored the question presented to him and looked between his two nephews. "I want the both of you to listen to me: stay away from the nord. She is trouble and I don't need you getting mixed up with her."

The brothers looked to each other, curiosity and puzzlement written across their face.

"The woman? She can't be _that_ much of a problem, can she?" Fili spoke, lips twisted in a disbelieving smirk.

"How did she even come to join us, Uncle Thorin? What is she even? I've never heard of a Dragonborn before." Said Kili.

"Aye, that's not surprising. To the far north, near the top of the world, lies an island, it's northern-most province: Skyrim. Most aptly name if I do say so myself. The habitants of such a cold and harsh land are Nords." Balin began to explain, sharing his exorbitant amount of knowledge, yet the impatience of the young interrupted him.

"Nord? But I thought she was a Dragonborn?" Fili said.

"I still don't know what a Dragonborn is!" Kili said.

Thorin gave an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Be _quiet_ and listen to Balin."

Clearing his throat, Balin continued. "Nords are enthusiastic warriors, known for their warfare; yet they highly value honor, glory, and family. Even the women have renowned battle skills. Magic also runs through their blood, but what makes a Dragonborn is all but a mystery. From the tales I have heard, one will be found every so often and will join their order. Legend says Dragonborn have the power of a fire drake and the immortality of any dragon. They are powerful beings, do not doubt that, and if Thyra is one such being, she will definitely prove vital to the success of our quest."

As Balin spoke, Thorin looked off into the dwindling fire, a rather unimpressed expression upon his face. Legends did not impress. Kili and Fili, however, looked quite amazed.

"Can she really be that strong?" Kili asked.

Skepticism spread across Balin's features and he gave a subtle shrug. "I do not know."

"She will either be a powerful ally, or a dangerous enemy." Thorin spoke, "Do not let your guard down. Now, it is about time we took to bed. We have a long day ahead of us."

Getting to his feet alas, Thorin left the room without further word. Balin let out a haggard sigh, the weariness of the night finally weighing upon him, and followed his king's example. "Do not fret lads; Thorin just worries himself. Do as he asks and ease his concerns. Now goodnight."

Kili and Fili watched as the others left, looking to each other in confusion. Everything involving this strange woman was a mystery, and it seemed to have their leader stressed. But Balin was right; there was nothing to do about it at the moment. All they could really do was wait and watch.

And as the night's hours began to wane, the last of the company fell to sleep; their final thoughts lingering on the stranger in their midst.

The night had been long, but entertaining; especially when the dwarves had broken out into song. Again they surprised me by the beauty of their creative arts. Their song had been sad, yet held such mesmerizing beauty that I had actually fallen asleep to the tune, curled up in the far corner. Sadly though, I only managed to get a few hours of rest in before the sounds of the others waking in turn woke me.

Blinking my weary eyes, it took a moment for them to focus and I stretched my arms into the air, mouth ungracefully opened wide. "Is it morning already?" I asked. The soft morning light had yet to fully envelope the world, but looking out the window, I could see the sky lightening, the vast blue absent of any clouds.

"Aye, it is."

Turning my attention from the window, my eyes landed upon the nearest dwarf, this one being the portly ginger whose thick beard swung down below his bulging belly. As Bombur –I think that's what his name was- moved about the room, packing his supplies, he would take large bites out of one of the many slices of jam covered bread he held in his thick-fingered hand.

"It's a bit too early if you ask me." Bofur said. The dark-haired dwarf stepped around his brother –they were brothers, right? Or was Bombur his cousin and Bifur his brother?- carrying a mattock over his shoulder and a messily closed bag under his arm. Tossing his items together with his brother's things –I jumped when the steel head of his weapon smashed into the floor- the male gave a sigh, looking rather disgruntled and fatigued.

Haphazardly running my fingers through my thick curls, I let out a weary groan before I convinced myself to get onto my feet lest I fell back asleep. I definitely didn't want Thorin leaving me behind as I slumbered, though with Gandalf around, the chances of that actually happening were dramatically decreased; though not eliminated. "So what's for breakfast?"

"Whatever you can scavenge from the pantry." Bofur said.

"When are we leaving?"

"Well, Kili and Fili are rounding up the ponies now. Once we have them packed, we'll be on our way."

I bobbed my head in understanding as I recalled the blonde and brunette brothers, and strolled through the short hallways and past busied dwarves. The pantry was for the most part barren, except for some moldy-blue cheese, and I sighed, resting my weight against the threshold. What did a woman have to do around here for some food?

"Lookin' for somethin' ta eat, lass?"

Spinning around, I smiled tiredly down at the white-haired mini-man. "Yeah, but it looks like you guys cleared our poor host out of his stores of food. I've got some spare bread in my pack, though, so I'll manage." I pushed myself from the wall and shrugged nonchalantly. "So since I'm already packed and eating on the road, it looks like I'm waiting on you guys."

Crossing my arms in front of me, I smirked as Balin chuckled. "So it seems." The comfortable atmosphere that seemed to be settling in between the dwarf and I was rudely interrupted by a shout from outside. Balin frowned, looking towards the source and shook his head. "Those boys…" I raised an eyebrow at his obscure comment and the dwarf quickly began to explain. "The two rounding up and preparing the ponies, they always seem to be up to some sort of mischief and I can only wonder as to what they have done now."

I chuckled; the thought that there were some dwarves of this group that caused more trouble than the others was ridiculously amusing. However, I paused when his words truly registered. If dwarves were rounding up all of the steeds, did that mean Haldis as well? Oh dear Sheogorath. Taking a step in the direction of the door, I gave Balin an apologetic smile. "Excuse me. I have to go check on something."

With deliberate steps, I moved quickly, the volume of frantic voices only increasing as I left the house and neared the spot where I had left my mare the previous night. And as expected, Haldis was snorting and stomping about as the brunette brother –Fili?- was yelping and whining, holding his right hand carefully, small splotches of blood quite evident against his skin. The lighter haired dwarf pulled his brother by his hood farther away from my angry horse.

Before any more damage could be done, I neared my mare, my hand up and palm facing her, eyes watching her every move and attempting to catch her gaze. "_Haldis, kos ahst drem. Morah._" I spoke softly yet firmly, finally catching the mare's attention. It took a few moments, but slowly Haldis began to calm down, and when it was safe enough, I ran my hand down her nose and comfortingly stroked her neck.

"Wha- How did you do that?"

Glancing over my shoulder, I took in the sight of the disgruntled duo. The blonde was watching me curiously, almost cautiously, while the brunette just stared on in obvious wonder. My eyes drifted down to the hand that was bleeding. The injury didn't appear to be too terrible, so revealing my magic to heal him wasn't necessary, thank Nocturnal.

Forcing an apologetic smile, I bowed my head, a gesture to my regret over the hassle these two went through. "My apologies; Haldis does not like to be handled by others, much less strangers. Will your hand be alright?"

"He'll be fine. And we're sorry for upsetting your horse." The blonde spoke quickly, pulling at his brother's arm. "We best get him bandaged up though."

He was nervous, uncomfortable maybe, and that fact weighed heavily on my heart; so much for making a good impression. I nodded though and forced a smile. "Of course and from now on you needn't worry about Haldis. I will take care of her myself."

A nod was all I received before the two quickly disappeared into the house in the hill. My smile dropped at the moment of their absence, and I turned to my horse, fingers running through her rough, dark tresses. "You couldn't have been nice to them, could you? Ya know you make it difficult for me to have friends when you do that sort of thing." My words came out softly, the sadness I was feeling seeping through my words.

However, I closed my eyes, and taking in a deep breath, I exhaled, a smile curving my lips in a much easier fashion. "Well, I'll just have to make it up to them, or something. They can't fault me for having a touchy horse, can they?"

I laughed as Haldis snorted and shoved me with her nose, and I began to pull the packs I had set off to the side back onto the mare's back. First were the camping supplies, then my inventory pack, and then the food. Once everything was strapped tightly, I rustled through the food and pulled out a tomato and a loaf of bread. A grimace etched itself across my face as I gazed at the fruit in my hand. If it weren't for the nutrients, I would never look upon this cursed vegi-fruit.

Quickly I ate the tomato and only when I took a bite of the bread did the disgust leave my face. The bread I ate slowly, enjoying it, and while I did so, I walked back to the house to retrieve my last item. As I stepped inside, dwarves seemed to be rushing about, a few times I even had to throw myself against the wall to avoid being trampled over, and I took the increased activity as a sign that we would be parting soon.

Returning to the corner in which I had slept in, I picked up Wuuthrad, who had been propped up against the wall. I glanced over the axe, ensuring that no one had left a scratch on its surface, and when satisfied, I rested the head just above my shoulder.

"Come on, lass! We're leavin'!"

Bofur's shout caught me be surprise as he ran past the door and my head snapped to the spot where he had just been moment ago. Ah, it was time at last. The sensation of gooseflesh rising over my skin had me shaking, the anticipation manifesting physically. Maneuvering through the house, I found myself behind Balin as we made our way to the front door and he took notice of my jitteriness.

"Nervous, lass?"

The question took me off guard, but I smiled and shook my head. "No, just excited to get going finally. Though, I do imagine Bilbo is a bit more than anxious."

"Yes, I imagine he would be if he were indeed joining us. Alas, though, it seems as if he has decided to stay unfortunately. It's a shame, really, but we'll have to make do." Balin spoke with regret, but seemed to have accepted to the situation.

I, however, was taken by surprise, my feet pausing in their ministrations. Bilbo wasn't joining us? Truthfully I had thought, despite the initial hesitance, the hobbit would have joined our company. Now…

I stood before the newly painted, round hobbit door, scarred with a single, small rune. A company of thirteen dwarves and a wizard moved before me, preparing their steeds for the long journey ahead of us; however, there was one less among us than I had anticipated.

It was official: we were out of a burglar.

I was surrounded.

By ponies.

While it was quite amusing to me, Haldis didn't seem to like them all that much if her constant annoyed snorting were any indication. So to keep my mare content, we kept at the back of the line, behind the pack-pony. It was honestly a shame to see Bilbo stay behind; Hermaeus Mora knows that I would have enjoyed the company of someone else who wasn't a dwarf. Not that I minded the dwarves; they were a snarky, fun-loving bunch –the kind of people I enjoyed- but there were those who were still weary of me. Whether it was because I was a nord or a woman, I wasn't sure.

The early morning sun softly began to warm the air and the rolling hills were quite a sight. My home consisted of snowy, rocken mountains and barren plains; rolling hills carpeted with lush, green grass were not a common sight.

"So, how long do ya think we should give the lad to catch up before you hand over my just rewards?"

Peering up, I watched as Oin taunted Nori over something I wasn't privy to. I was hesitant to speak up. As comfortable and relaxed as I generally was, forcibly inserting myself into their affairs and conversations had me uncertain. I never knew how I would be received and even if they weren't required to like me for me to be a part of their journey, I would rather have them enjoy my company than resent it.

I took a slight inhale through my nose before speaking up. "You have a bet going?"

Oin, Fili, and Kili looked over their shoulders to look back at me. They didn't seem to be upset that I had spoken to them, surprisingly enough. In fact, Kili and Oin looked rather amused. "Aye, we do! Nori here thinks the little hobbit won't be joining us. I believe I am going to profit on his ignorance." Oin jested.

My laugh mingled in along with the others.

"What about you? Do you think Bilbo will stay?" Kili asked.

Silver-white eyes jumped to the young, dark-haired dwarf, the curiosity evident on his face made him look young and childish in a rather adorable way. The fact that there was a rather lack of facial hair only emphasized my point. I shrugged in response, however, relaying without a word spoken of how I honestly had no clue what the halfling would decide to do.

"You know, I don't think we ever caught your name." Fili said with a musing expression.

And indeed he was correct. I had only introduced myself to Bilbo last night; none of the dwarves had bothered to ask me my name until now. The gesture, whether out of simple curiosity and nothing more or an attempt to get to know me better, brought a smile to my lips. Especially considering the last time I had interacted with these two. "I'm Thyra Gray-Mane. You're Fili and Kili, right?"

In turn, I received a bow of their heads and a smile. "Indeed we are."

"How is your hand doing? I hope Haldis didn't injury you too badly." I said.

The one I now knew as Kili glanced wearily at my horse and held his hand to his chest cautiously, as if expecting the mare to lash out again. She seemed to pick up on his unease as well and gave a snort and tossed her head, in turn making the dwarf jolt. Both Fili and I laughed, my hand petting the base of Haldis' neck as Kili pouted. "Your horse nearly took off my hand and you're laughing?! That's hardly any way to apologize."

While his words rang true, my laughter continued to trickle out. It wasn't until Fili spoke did I manage to regain my composure. "Those words; when you spoke to your horse earlier, what language were you speaking?"

"_Dovah_: it's dragon tongue. I taught Haldis certain phrases so others wouldn't be able to understand what sort of command I was giving her." I explained.

"Wait. Dragons have their own _language_?" Kili exclaimed, his jaw dropping wide dramatically.

I simply nodded with a smile. "Yup. It's not surprising you don't know. Dragons are a rare sight here, no? Back where I'm from, it's rare to travel from one city to another without seeing one, much less hearing one."

That simple fact seemed to have both males captivated. "Are there really that many dragons? How are your lands and villages not plundered and destroyed?" Kili asked. His eyes were quite literally shining with wonder and amazement, and attempting to keep my amusement at his fascination hidden was proving rather difficult.

"Dragons are intelligent creatures. They know if they pose a threat, Dragonborn will make sure that threat is extinguished. In fact, a number of dragons are rather peaceful. Only those who in turn threaten to steal their treasure face their might."

It seemed more questions were itching to bubble up from Kili's curiosity, but a shout caught our attention. I tugged on Haldis' reigns and signaled for her to stop. Then looking behind me, the sight of a small figure running through the grass, making its way towards us could be seen, shouting and yelling for us to stop.

"Well I'll be damned." I laughed.

Bilbo ran right past us, a piece of parchment I recognized as the contract waving through the air as he ran. Giving it to Balin, the hobbit stood bent over his knees, attempting to catch his breath. Damn, he must have been running all the way here just to try and catch up to us. The little man sure had endurance, that's for sure.

We all waited in baited silence as Balin examined the contract. When the white-haired dwarf declared everything settled and squared away, it seemed everyone let out a sigh of relief, and a few even let out some cheers. I laughed and watched as Fili and Kili, their attention drawn from me to our burglar, picked up the halfling between the two of them and attempted to place him upon one of the pack-ponies. I rolled my eyes and laughed as their struggles only produced failure, and urged Haldis forward behind the boys.

I grabbed onto the back of Bilbo's coat, and doing so turned the attention of the three of there. "Here boys, I've got him. I'll get him settled on a pony."

Fili and Kili looked between themselves, speaking wordlessly, before they nodded and let Bilbo go. The poor man gave out a cry of surprise, having expected to fall to the ground. With my free hand, I pulled Haldis to a halt again, and in turn caused the ponies behind us to stop as well. Dropping Bilbo to his feet, I slid from my steed and gave the hobbit a smile, clapping him on his back. "It's good to see you've joined us."

An uncertain smile and a nod was all he could manage to give me, but I didn't mind. Chuckling to myself, I motioned for Bilbo to follow, and I stood beside the pony that had a lighter load. "This one will do; let me have your bag. Have you ever ridden before?" I asked. An uncertain shake of his head was all I needed for an answer and I took his pack from his outreached hand. "Alright; to get on, put your left foot in the straddle, grab the horn up here, and pull yourself up and throw your leg over. It's awkward, but it's best to do it quickly." I explained while strapping his bag to the back of his pony.

I had thought he was going to need help, but as I ensured his pack was properly tied, he managed to get onto his steed. Nodding my head, impressed, I moved to his side and grabbed the reign and held it out for him to take. "Always hold onto this with both hands. Even if you are just following the others, you never know when you'll come to a sudden halt, or she may try and leave the path for a little snack. Pull the reigns sharply toward you to make her stop, or do so slowly to slow her down. Tug left to lead her left, right for right, and click your heels to her side to get her to pick up the pace. Do you need me to go over that at all?"

I spoke quickly since the group had continued on while I was helping Bilbo and I didn't want to get too far behind them, but he seemed to understand my instructions. "Yes, I understand. Thank you, Thyra."

"No problem at all." I smiled. Then letting Bilbo urge the pony forward, I patted the last pack-pony on the butt and he followed after Bilbo.

Rejoining Haldis, I quickly caught up to the group and joined Bilbo and Gandalf, dodging bags of coin as I did so. Silently I listened to the hobbit and the wizard talk, and laughed when gold was tossed Gandalf's way. So he had been in the bet as well. Ya know, I don't think I'll be underestimating Gandalf any time soon.

And so this was it; we were off to Erebor; to slay a dragon and reclaim a stolen home. Thirteen dwarves who were as dangerous and had as much sense as a Slaughterfish, a tiny hobbit who was as harmful as a torchbug, a wizard who had a tendency to gamble and speak in riddle, and at last a nord; never in my life had I ever seen such group, and as Bilbo shouted for the company to stop and turn around so he could retrieve his handkerchief, I could only wonder if maybe going about my quest alone would have been a better idea…

Oh, who am I kidding?! This will be way more entertaining!

"You'll have to manage without pocket handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach our journey's end. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire. But home is now behind you. The world is ahead."

And indeed it was.

_[1] Kos ahst Drem: Be at peace  
[2] Morah: Focus_

_And for those who don't know/can't remember: Hermaeus Mora is the Daedric Prince of Knowledge, Sheogorath the Prince of Madness, Hermaus Mora the prince of knowledge, and Nocturnal the Prince of night, darkness, and luck. I think those were all of the ones I used. If I missed one, just let me know! _

_Alright, that's it for this chapter. *Le sigh* And yes, the Dovah used is canon in case any of you are curious. Anyways, has anyone seen the trailer for Desolation of Smaug?! :D OHMAWGAWD! I am so excited! So many feels , _

_Well, hopefully it won't take me as long to get this next chapter out as it did for this one. I have some vague ideas of what I want to go over in this next chapter, but is there anything you guys would be interested in seeing? I enjoy listening to what you guys have to say; so review or PM me! Can't wait to hear from you all!_

_~Kago_


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